Conscripted
by KatDancer2
Summary: Elspeth Cousland is not honored to have been recruited into the Grey Wardens.
1. Conscripted

Elspeth yanked an arrow from the wolf's side viciously, wiped the arrowhead, and put it back into her quiver. "No, Ser Jory, I don't think this is all a grand adventure," she gritted between her teeth. "I don't feel like it's an honor: I have to be here, so here I am."

"The Grey Wardens only accept the finest – " Jory began.

"Whether they will or not!" Elspeth said heatedly, pulling another arrow, inspecting it, and putting it into her quiver. "I was assured – my parents were assured – that I would not be conscripted against my will, and yet that is exactly what happened."

That got Alistair's attention. "Wait… what -"

Elspeth examined another arrow, cast it aside as too damaged to be of use. "My father was Bryce Cousland, Teyrn of Highever. Duncan said he would not conscript me because he could not afford to anger the nobles of Ferelden. Our castle was surprised by Arl Howe's men, and they slaughtered our servants, my nephew and sister in law, and left my father dying in a pool of his own blood." She straightened, picking up her bow. "My father pleaded with Duncan to take me and my mother to safety, and Duncan agreed to only if I Joined. I said no. He conscripted me on the spot and dragged me off, leaving my mother to cover our escape." Her voice broke. "I didn't even get to say goodbye…."

She turned her back, her face red and her brows drawn. "So forgive me if I am not enamored of the Wardens and the honor of being chosen. Since neither of my noble parents are alive to protest my conscription to the king, I guess there's no danger of angering them."

It was Davith who regained his voice first. "I am sorry for your loss, my lady…."

She paused, only turning partway towards him. "Thank you," she said quietly. "But I am no longer a lady. No titles. No family. No history."

"Maker's breath," Jory muttered under his breath.


	2. Loss

Elspeth Cousland lay on her bedroll, Scout snuggled in close behind her back. She tried to stifle the sounds of her crying – crying would do her no good and would make her little band think she was weak. A Cousland always did her duty – and her duty now was to be a Grey Warden whether she liked it or not.

Memories flooded before her eyes. Her nephew and sister in law, dead in her brother's rooms. Her father, dying in a pool of blood. Her mother, covering the secret exit from the kitchen so that Duncan and she could escape, preferring to die at her father's side than live at her daughter's.

And Fergus… lost, maybe dead, in the Korcari Wilds.

And Duncan, damn him, had conscripted her against her will. If Fergus was dead, then the Couslands were no more. Highever would stay in Howe's grasping hands.

Elspeth got up quietly. She walked toward the pond they had found, trying to avoid disturbing anyone else.

"Can't sleep?"

Elspeth looked up. Alistair was standing a few paces away, his body language radiating a mix of concern and wariness. She remembered how bitterly she had recounted her conscription. The man could only think she hated him as well.

"No," she said quietly, "I can't." She turned toward him, though she found it difficult to look him in the eyes.

"The nightmares for me were bad too, right after the Joining. The Archdemon and the darkspawn, you know. It'll take time, but you'll learn to block it out."

She nodded. "Thank you," she said. "It's kind of you to let me know."

He was studying her, though his gaze wasn't judgmental. "That's not what's keeping you up, though."

She shook her head.

"Are you worried we can't pull this off?"

She shook her head. "No. I mean I am, but we have to keep on working at it anyway, right?" She looked up at him.

Her eyes, he noticed, were hazel – predominantly green, and wide. There was something very vulnerable in the way she looked at him now – a vulnerability she did not let others see.

"I miss my family," she said quietly, and looked away. "Andraste forgive me, I wish I had died with them if I could not survive to remain a Cousland."

Alistair reached out tentatively and put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm glad you didn't die," he said. He was silent a moment more, and said, "Would it help to talk about them?"

Elspeth nodded, and sat on a small boulder near the pond. Alistair sat beside her, close but not touching, listening.

"They both fought in the rebellion, you know. My mother and father. Or maybe you didn't. My mother was a captain of her own ship when she met my father, actually. Eleanor Mac Eanraig was called the Seawolf, and she, her father and her two brothers were captains who eventually fought for King Maric. She was fifteen when she and her crew took down their first Orlesian warship. She and her ship, the Mistral, were feared for their swiftness and ferocity. And my father, he was a captain in the rebel army. To retake Denerim, Maric had any soldiers who could keep their stomachs onboard bolster my grandfather's, well, pirate fleet, and anyone who couldn't went round and attacked from the land."

"Your grandfather was a _pirate_?!"

"And my mother and my uncles too, off the Storm Coast," Elspeth chuckled. "You wouldn't have believed it see her in silk gowns and intricately braided hair as a Teyrna, speaking as softly and kindly as she did - but she could be downright terrifying if she were truly angry. A single look was enough to make you want to fix what you'd done and never do it again." Elspeth trailed off. "That look was saved for adults who should know better, though. Never used on Fergus or me, or my father. Well. After they were married, I suppose. There's a whole song about how disastrously their first meeting went - for my father."

"The Seawolf and the Soldier? So your father is the soldier." He chuckled. If nothing else, the man must have had a sense of humor - or been humble enough to accept publicly that his future wife had gotten the better of him.

"Yes. She accepted his suit after the rebellion was all but over, and he sang the song to her at the Landsmeet. She stopped him by the third verse and agreed to marry him."

"She sounds like she was a very brave, skilled woman, intelligent and decisive too."

"She was. She and father insisted Fergus and I both be trained in arms. Fergus took more after father, with sword and shield and heavy armor, and I took more after mother. Between her and my best friend, Nate..."

Elspeth trailed off immediately, wringing her hands. She only flinched slightly when Alistair put his arm around her shoulders, then she leaned into him.

"They taught you to be an amazing archer, then," he murmured.

"Among other things," she sighed.

Alistair felt a brief moment when his stomach turned over, and he quelled the feeling as best he could. While he was feeling rather... protective of Elspeth, especially seeing that she was suffering and trying to keep it from their companions, he had no right to feel jealous of this Nate she mentioned.

That was when his coin purse landed in his lap.

"What-"

"Mother also taught me a few... useful but shady skills herself - and Nate helped me perfect a few."

"A Cousland a pickpocket and cutpurse?" Alistair grumbled, retying his purse to his belt after bouncing it in his hand to see if the weight were still right.

"And lockpick. Though I'd never had to take anything before. I'd mostly do it to amuse my nephew Oren, or to slip coin to people too proud to take it though they needed it. The lockpicking was so my parents knew I would always be able to get away were I locked up somewhere, kidnapped."

"Was there much danger of that?"

Elspeth nodded. "Oh. yes. The Couslands are - _were_ \- the third most powerful family in the land, alongside the Mac Tirs. They'd always told me I would be free to marry whom I wanted, but - there were those who might have tried to kidnap and 'ruin' me so I would have to marry them." Her eyes snapped. "That wouldn't have happened - if such a thing were attempted, if I didn't get the chance to gut the pig, my parents and brother would have. It never hurts to be cautious, though."

Alistair was silent a long moment. "No, it doesn't. Not when family is involved."

Elspeth shuddered against his side. "What will I do, Alistair?" she choked. "If I were the last of the Couslands, my whole family is dead... I'll have to watch as Anora hands Highever to someone else. And if Fergus_ isn't_ dead - how can I tell him I failed to save our family, that Scout and I were the only survivors?" She let out a breath that hitched several times as she tried to quell a sob. "He'll think I _ran_."

"_No_, my lady," he said gently, squeezing her shoulders a moment. "How could he believe that, knowing you your whole life? I've know you a couple of weeks and know you'd have never run."

Elspeth curled into him and he could feel tears dampening the collar of his gambeson. "Mother and father both told me to go - I wouldn't. I would have stayed to the last. Then Duncan - even after he said the words and I wouldn't go, he... he knocked me cold and carried me out. I hate him," she sobbed. "I _hate_ him. I'm not glad he's dead, but he stole my life as sure as Howe did."

Alistair bit his lip and kept his silence, hugging the crying girl beside him.


End file.
